Eyes Open
by Psych-psychic17
Summary: Shawn is targeted by assassins, who will stop at nothing to silence him. Being watched wherever you are is not easy, especially when you are being watched by trained sniper marksmen. Shawn knows of the plan for his demise, but realizes if he tells anyone he'll get a 50 cal. bullet through his skull. Time is ticking, and Shawn is actually scared for his life. NO SLASH, maybe Shules
1. Chapter 1

**So, this is my very first fanfic. I'm excited. So, I'll try to update this regularly, but things will come up. I know they will. I hope you stick around for this one, because I have a feeling it will be pretty good. This is based off of the song by Taylor Swift, Eyes Open. Enjoy, and toodles! *Facepalm* XD**

**Disclaimer- I don't own Psych, very depressingly. I don't own the song, either. I only own the peeps you've never heard of. I don't own really anything except the plot and the characters you've never heard of, my charries. Rynx, Blackbird, them peeps. SO yeah. **

Everybody's waiting, to see the breakdown

Everyone's watching, to see the fallout

And even when you're sleeping, sleeping,

Keep your eyes open

-Eyes Open, Taylor Swift

"Everybody is watching, to see your breakdown. Everyone's waiting for your fallout. And even when you are sleeping, keep your eyes open. Keep your eyes open, Shawn Spencer. Because you may never know what's lying in wait," Rynx cackled, then grinned in the psychopathic way of his that made Shawn almost drop the phone in his hand, watching the man in orange on the other side of the glass. The guards then came over and grabbed his arms, dragging him away as he laughed and laughed.

And a shiver went down Shawn's spine as he felt someone watching him.

**Chapter 1-**

The sun shone brightly in the evening sky, just resting on the horizon. The temperature was warm, enough for a nice day at the beach, which was exactly what Shawn Spencer had planned on doing. That is, until a case came in.

"Shawn, Chief didn't call us in for this case. We shouldn't be here," Gus lectured for the 50th time since they had got in the Blueberry.

"But, Gus, we wouldn't ever be on this case if we hadn't come, and _p__lus_, it involves hot girls. Honestly, how could I resist? And you too, for that matter!" Shawn replied indignantly and ducked under the yellow tape marked 'Police Line- Do Not Cross'. He flung open the doors to the mansion and set a world famous dazzling smile on his face. After all, Playboy bunnies were there.

"Ooh," He heard Gus mutter behind him.

He rolled his eyes then scanned the room. Police and forensics were swarming in and out of a door in the corner, and nervous looking Playboy bunnies were being interviewed.

Shawn ignored whatever Gus was ranting about and instead headed into the suspicious room.

The walls were a deep rich red color, as was the carpet. A man lay on the floor, a knife wound right in the center of his chest. The blood pooling from the stab blended in with the carpet, which, Shawn supposed, would be good for when they needed to get the stain off the floor.

"Hey, Gus, the blood blends in with the carpet. I guess it'll be easier to get the stain out, that way, because you won't even see it!" Shawn whispered, and Gus glared at him in response. Shawn turned his attention back to the room.

There was a nick in the wall a few feet away from the man. It appeared as though someone had swung but missed, and stabbed the wall. Also, there were scuff marks on the carpet, and tire marks where something had been rolled across the carpet.

"See anything?" Gus whispered.

"Yeah. A few things, but I'm not sure what it has to do with anything," Shawn whispered back. "Ooh, there's Lassie."

He then headed towards him, putting his smile back on his face.

"Hey, Lassie!" He greeted.

"Spencer, what are you doing here?"

"The same thing I always do at crime scenes. Try and get the spirits to tell me things by bribing them with songs by Def Leppard and Van Halen, and even you can't deny the epicness of that," Shawn replied, and gave him a look that said 'Come on, you know you can't!'

The detective thought for a moment.

"Spencer, get out of here."

"Lassie, I couldn't do that. Because 1, I sense you'll need me on this case, 2, I know that even you, Mr. Poker Face, are enjoying being here around all these Playboy bunnies, I know that Gus is, and 3.…I have no three, just forget that number, it wasn't even here," Shawn ranted. "Oh, wait, yes, I do. Where's Jules?"

"Day off. I can't decide whether that's good or bad." Lassiter replied, then turned around.

Shawn frowned in thought, then spun around and went to find Gus.

"Obviously, this psychic is good. Real good. He's solved lots of cases. This will be almost impossible to do," A gruff voice spoke from the shadows.

Another man glared at the shadows.

"I know this!" He hissed, then threw the file folder onto the table. It slid for a few feet, then came to a stop.

"Well, what do you want us to do? Snipers are available, Rusty said he could get one," The other man sighed irritably.

"Do you think I care what Rusty says? Rusty has failed me at every mission given to him. He failed to silence every man I assigned him to! I am trusting You on this task, and if you fail, you will deeply regret your actions. I want this man silenced once and for all. I want him to have appeared to have vanished from the face of the Earth to every person who ever knew him. No records or anything. Got it?" The man spat, and stood up. He pulled the combat shotgun off the rack on the wall and pressed it against the other man's throat, a look of malice in his fiery amber eyes.

"Y-Y-Yes sir," he stuttered out.

"Good," the other man responded, "Good Good Good. Now get out, and I don't want to see you until Shawn Spencer is dead and you have his lifeless body in your hands, Blackbird."

Blackbird nodded, then turned and scrambled out of the room. The original man cackled, then tossed the gun back on the rack haphazardly. He returned to the file folder, and flipped it open to a picture that was taken by a rooftop sniper of Shawn Spencer. He traced the man's jaw, and smiled.

"Shawny-boy, you are going to get what you dished out."

"But Gus!" Shawn whined, for the probably millionth time that day.

"Shawn- NO means NO!" Gus answered back, and continued driving.

"You know what? Fine. I'll just ignore you for forever!" Shawn huffed, then turned and stared out the window.

"Yeah, that'll never happen. 1, I drive you to Jamba Juice at 1 in the morning, 2, I'm taking you to see Avengers, and 3, I have your Poison CD," Gus scoffed.

"What? You _t__raitor_!" Shawn exclaimed, and shook his head. "_Shaaaaame!"_

"I feel no regret."

"Coldhearted traitor."

"Shawn, I know that you have done worse things."

"What are you implying?"

"Get over it, I'll give it back."

"Fine. Now can we go to Jamba Juice?"

"Yes."

"So, guess what I got today at the scene? Well, first, I noticed that there was a struggle. There was a nick in the wall, and also, I saw tire treads on the carpet. Scuff marks, and the fact the man's blood blended into the carpet. I'm guessing that was intentional, though I would never know. And, that they attacked above," Shawn noted, pointing up, while Gus raised an eyebrow.

"From the roof?"

"Yes. It gives a feeling of superiorness, or whatever," Shawn replied.

"What?" Gus asked, not even getting what Shawn was getting at.

"I don't know, it was on Burn Notice and I wanted to say it," Shawn shrugged. Gus rolled his eyes.

"So, anything else?"

"No, though I noticed that one of the Playboy bunnies kept smiling when she thought no one was watching her, like a creepy mad man. The blonde one, ya know?" Shawn answered.

"There were 3 blonde ones," Gus pointed out.

"Right," Shawn responded, and frowned. "Hazel eyes, curly hair, curvy?"

"You mean Fallon?" Gus asked. "She didn't seem at all creepy."

"Fallon? Interesting name," Shawn said, in thought, and furrowed his brows.

"Yeah. Her name is Fallon Evangeline Sanders. She kept talking about how hot one of the detectives was," Gus admitted.

"Who?" Shawn pressed, a grin creeping across his face.

"Um, she kept saying something about sexy green eyes, and a sexy five o'clock shadow. And fluffy hair to match hers…Wait, no way. No. Way." Gus shook his head.

"Ooooohhhhh yeaaaah, a Playboy bunny called me _sexy,_" Shawn drawled, and did a slow victory dance in his seat. "Ooooohhhh yeeeeeaaaaahhhhhh!"

"Shawn, just shut up," Gus griped.

"Jealous?" Shawn teased, and stuck his tongue out at Gus.

"I'll kill you. And break the Poison CD!" Gus threatened.

"I don't care, because A PLAYBOY BUNNY THINKS I'M SEEEEXY!" Shawn crowed, and grinned even bigger. "Whaaaaaaaaaaaat!"

"Hey, I was talking to one of them for a while!" Gus protested.

"Did she say you were sexy?"

"Shut up, Shawn. Just shut up!"

**SOOOOOO! How was it? Good? Bad? Makes ya wanna barf? Would rather be watching Burn Notice? (Questioning myself on that one...) Tell me about it! Review! Shawn will sing We Are Young by Fun in public if you do! **

**Shawn- So do it, woman!**

**Me- And if you are a man, I hope that makes you want to review! If not, I apologize!**

**Shawn- BUT IT'S TOO LATE, TO 'POLOGIZE, IT'S TOO LATE!**

**Me- Err...yeah. **

**Shawn- This will only get worse. I could sing Yeah x3 by Chris Brown.**

**Me- Just Review!**

**Shawn- Hmm...oh well, I'll sing I Ran by Flock of Seagulls. I RAN, I RAN SO FAR AWAY, I JUST RAN, I RAN ALL NIGHT AND DAY, I COULDN'T GET AWAY!**

**Me- REVIEW! NOW!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Heyo! I actually meant for this to be up on Wednesday...heehee...But anyway, be glad it's up. Mmm, I love smoothies...**

**Anyway, I started doing the little thing where it tells the time, the place, the hour, ya know? The time is military time, because it's cooler. So 1:07 hours is 1 in the morning. 13:57 is 1 in the afternoon. So...yeah. **

**Disclaimer- I don't own Psych, anything to do with Playboy bunnies, Febreze, iPhones, Beers of Mexico (it's a case of beers with 4 different kinds of beer- 2 diff Dos Equis, Sol, and Tecate.), Dos Quis, iPhone, anything to do with Ke$ha, or anything to do with The Housewives of New Jersey. I only own Holly, Fallon, Piper, and the sniper, and the unknown man. I really don't own anything except the plot and the charries you've never heard of.**

*** Keep in mind, if anything seems wrong, I don't have a beta. **

Chapter 2-

_June 15, 2012; Psych Office; 01:07 hours _

"Shawn, remind me why you dragged me here at 1 in the morning?" Gus asked sleepily, a little irritated and annoyed.

"Because! Fallon is here, and she's drunk. That's good." Shawn replied, and grinned. He unlocked the door, and opened it.

"Why does it smell like vanilla Febreze in here?" Gus wrinkled his nose.

"Fallon claims it smelled like man stench. I told her that it was supposed to. Then she went crazy with the Febreze," Shawn responded. They headed into the other room to see Fallon standing up on the couch, dancing to Ke$ha. "And there she is!"

"Shawn, did you kidnap Fallon?" Gus gave Shawn his best scolding look. As usual, it had no effect.

"Maaaaaybe," Shawn replied, then plopped down on the sofa next to Fallon's silver sparkly high heels.

"Hey, sexy," She drawled, then sat down next to Shawn. She slid her hands into his hair, then started kissing his ear.

"So, now we can question her," Shawn said and grinned, completely ignoring Fallon.

"That's cheating." Gus motioned to Fallon.

"Then start asking questions. This chick is insane," Shawn retorted, and leaned back, crossing his hands behind his head.

"Fallon," Gus started. "We need to ask you some things."

"What?" She turned, a loopy grin on her face. "Wait- I know what you'll ask, do I have a boyfriend?" She laughed, pointing her finger aimlessly at Gus.

"Um, no, that's not what I was going to ask. What do you know about Stanton Feraro, the owner of the mansion?""God, that freak? He was such a _jerk. _I wanted to wrap my hands around that creep's little neck sometimes," Fallon growled, her face twisting from loopy to anger in a millisecond.

"Oh…really?" Shawn prodded. "Like when?"

"He was always such a bastar*. He pushed us around and treated us like dirt," Fallon seethed. She pushed some of her wild curly hair away from her tan face.

"So, would you say it was enough for any of you to kill him?" Gus queried.

"I don't know, I mean, I'm glad he's dead, but then again I now don't have a job. He really pushed Coral around a lot, though. I felt bad for her," Fallon recalled, a frown on her face. "She hated his guts."

"So, Coral?" Gus repeated.

"Yeah. I doubt she would kill him, though. One time we were on a tour bus and there was a dead squirrel in the road, and she was crying her eyes out over it. She once cried over a butterfly, too," Fallon added.

"Well, I guess she's not our suspect," Shawn concluded, and sighed.

"So, where were you when Stanton was killed, on the night of June 13?" Gus asked, and cautiously sat down away from Fallon.

"I was out with Annabeth. We had went to a club that night with Holly, who left early without telling us why. I guess that could be considered suspicious," Fallon admitted. She stood up. "Do you guys have drinks? Like, drink drinks?" She went over to Gus and leaned over in front of him, a sweet smile on her face.

Gus blinked and forced himself to look away from her cleavage.

"N-N-No. You're already drunk," Gus said firmly.

"Ugh," She huffed, stood up, and rolled her eyes. She made her way over to the refridge dizzily, and grabbed the handle, yanking it open.

"Oooh, Beers of Mexico?" She asked, and grabbed a Dos Equis.

"Shawn!" Gus looked over at him. Shawn shrugged and mouthed, 'She's a Playboy bunny, Gus! She can do whatever she wants!'

Fallon popped the lid off with a opener, then sat down next to Shawn again. She took a drink, and Gus glared at Shawn.

"So, we need to question Holly, then?" Shawn pondered.

"Yeah, I guess. But, I can't drive. I do call shotgun though," Fallon claimed.

"Dang it," Shawn muttered.

They all headed out in silence, and Fallon carefully set her drink down on the table.

"I'll be back," She told it, then followed the two men out to the Blueberry. She hopped in the passenger seat, with Gus driving and Shawn in the back.

"Where to?" Gus questioned.

"I don't know, lemme see." Fallon responded, and pulled out her iPhone. She typed for a bit, and then they sat in silence for a few moments.

"Um, she said she driving around town. Do you want me to tell her to come here?" Fallon asked.

"Yeah, sure." Gus shrugged.

Fallon turned back to her phone.

"Okay. I'm going in." She opened the door, got out, then strutted inside.

"So, two Playboy bunnies now?" Shawn leaned forward between the two seats and grinned.

"Shawn, I'm sleeping when I get inside."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX_Psych_XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

_June 15, 2012; Psych office; 10:56 hours_

"So you left the club because your dog was at the vet sick?" Gus repeated.

"Yes. But she's all better now!" Holly reached into her enormous purse, and pulled out a very small Chihuahua. She wagged her tiny tail and bounded onto Shawn's lap.

"Woah, hey there," He said, and petted her head.

"Piper, no licking," Holly scolded.

"Why didn't you tell anyone why you left?" Gus asked, curiously.

"Because I was about to break down crying, and I didn't feel like letting the whole bar know my personal business," Holly snapped, then pulled Piper back into her lap and petted her.

"Why didn't anyone wake me up?" A voice rang out across the room impatiently. Everyone turned to see Fallon standing there.

"Because I was letting you sleep," Holly retorted.

"Oh. Well." Fallon pouted, then went and sat on the other side of Shawn.

"You are going to have some explaining to do," Gus said to Shawn, who shrugged.

"Well, I bet Lassie and Jules are going to want to question both of you, and it's better if we hand you over than Mr. Grumpypants comes and gets you," Shawn started. Gus nodded.

"I'll tell him they came to us." Gus grabbed his phone and walked into the other room.

"Just remember. Don't make Lassie all P'od, or he'll just snap at you, maybe push some tables over? He may go all Housewives of New Jersey on you."

"Shawn! He heard that!"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX_Psych_XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

_June 15, 2012; Rooftop; 11:34 hours_

"I've got the target in sight," The man said into his radio. Another voice crackled to life on the other end.

"Good. I want some pictures," The radio said.

"Got it," The man replied, then set the radio down. He shifted his weight, and sighed in content. Both because he was now comfortable, which didn't really matter, and because he now had a clear shot. So what if the psychic wasn't supposed to be dead? It was his time to go.

He waited in silence for a few more moments, his 50 caliber sniper rifle trained on the door of the psychic's office, Psych.

Exactly 3 minutes and 27 seconds later the door swung open, and the psychic emerged, flaunting himself around like he was so special. It was annoying. He sauntered over to the Head Detective's police car, and swung open the back door. The detective got out and snapped something at the psychic. The head detective then suddenly glanced around, and his eyes stopped on the sniper, and widened. The sniper aimed at the psychic's head, and fired quickly.

A grin spread across his face, and he chuckled.

**DUNDUNDUN! I didn't exactly plan for that to happen in the second chapter...oh well. Gotta build up the suspense! **

**So review! Because they are like smoothies! **

**And sadly, Shawn is not here at the moment. Because I will not give away what happens! **

**So pretty please?**


	3. Chapter 3

**Yes, I realize. It's WAY past time for an update. I'm sorry. Life got in the way, and the computer decided it would be best to not start properly. Here's a cookie for your pain. (::) And I think I'll start telling you guys songs to go listen to! So go listen to You're Gonna Go Far, Kid by The Offspring. It is my FAVORITE song for bad $$es. If you watch Burn Notice, look up Burn Notice - Michael Westen- You're Gonna Go Far Kid. 8O BEST VIDEO _EVER_. **

**AND OMG THE SEASON PREMIERE OF BURN NOTICE! :D :D :D :D That was epic!**

**Disclaimer- I don't own Psych or Burn Notice. VERY depressingly. :( I don't own NCIS, Die Hard, or The Terminator. I also mentioned Chuck Norris and Jason Statham. Nope. Don't own Danzi either. I DO own the cat, Semper, Phantom, Blackbird, and Ash. Don't steal mah kitty, who will reappar later. :)**

Chapter 3-

_June 15, 2012; Outside Psych; 11:37 hours_

A glint of metal was all it took. For the afternoon sun to glint off that metal of that gun, that 50 cal. sniper that could anyone's life away in a second. Habit was what saved someone's life. Habit of one detective that seemed rough on the outside, but deep down, really did care. Years of training is what saved someone's life as well.

Time slowed down as Detective Lassiter saw that glint of metal.

Time slowed down as he turned to the man next to him, the target. The man with the red dot on his forehead.

Time slowed down as he dove forward.

Time slowed down as that man let out a yelp.

Time slowed down as he heard that fire ring throughout the area.

Time slowed down as Carlton Lassiter tackled Shawn Spencer into the back of his car.

Time slowed down as he yelled for Guster to get in and drive, anywhere.

Time finally caught back up.

Tires squealed on pavement as the car lurched forward, going over the speed limit and then some.

"What the hell just happened?" Shawn finally managed, his eyes wide.

"Spencer, someone is out to kill you, and that was the first attempt." Lassiter said grimly, and scanned the rooftops.

"M-M-Me?" Shawn stuttered.

"No, the Queen of England!" Lassie snapped. "Yes, you!"

"The sarcasm is not helping," Gus interjected. Lassie glared.

"W-Why me?" Shawn mumbled, clearly in shock.

"Because, you've solved unsolvable cases. I sure hope this isn't a Yin retaliation, or something," Gus answered. Shawn frowned, and buried his face in his hands. Lassiter pulled out his phone and made a few calls.

"I can't believe this…I can finally get a body guard! Lassie, are you up for hire?" Shawn finally announced after a few minutes of silence. He grinned.

"No, Spencer. And Guster, where the hell are we going?" Lassiter snapped impatiently.

"We are going to Shawn's dad's house," Gus answered.

"What? Why? Gus, don't you realize he'll completely freak out and grab some guns and go all Rambo, running through the streets with no shirt on and a hunting knife, with black paint smeared under his eyes?" Shawn said. Lassiter sighed.

"I can't believe I just saved your life," he grumbled under his breath.

"Lassie, that's mean. You know what?" He lashed out and swiped Lassiter's gun from the holster, and held it against his temple. "Fine."

"Shawn!" Gus exclaimed from the front seat, almost losing control of the wheel.

"Spencer!" Lassiter reached out, and Shawn lunged back.

"Touch me and I squeeze the trigger."

"Shawn! This is not Burn Notice!" Gus yelled.

"Yeah, but I really wanted to do that. Have some 'leverage'," Shawn informed. "And the safety's on."

"Give me my gun," Lassiter ordered. Shawn handed it to him, then bounced around in the back seat like a impatient child.

"So, anyway, I really think I need a body guard. Like, a Michael Westen body guard. Or, the dude from NCIS, or Chuck Norris. John McClane? What about Jason Statham? Perhaps The Terminator?" He rambled.

"Four of those are fictional characters," Gus interrupted.

"Your point?" Shawn retorted.

Gus rolled his eyes and continued driving.

"Maybe I should go into disguise," Shawn continued.

"Spencer, will you shut the hell up for five minutes!" Lassiter growled.

Shawn stuck out his bottom lip, and pouted silently.

"Jerk, I'll never leave those mini snow-globes on your desk ever again," Shawn muttered.

"Good," Lassiter hissed.

Shawn stuck his tongue out at him, then turned and stared out the window.

"If I die, I'm haunting both of your kitchen cabinets for the rest of your lives."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX_Psych_XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

_June 20, 2012; Location Unknown; 00:49 hours_

Eyes gleamed in the darkness of the night, unblinking and focused. Whispers traveled through the dense pine trees, whispers of men waiting to kill. No moon was seen in the sky, and the twinkling stars were obscured by the smoke grey clouds hanging low over the silent city.

Footsteps crunched on dead pine needles as they made their move across the clearing. Shadows flitted here and there of the ones on the outside, just in the trees.

A caw of a midnight black raven echoed throughout the blackness. Several men stopped in their tracks and froze, while the others continued ahead, unfazed and to concentrated at the mission at hand to worry about petty bumps in the night.

A radio crackled to life, and the lead man fumbled to unbuckle it from his leather belt as he crouched and peered out from between two branches.

"Where are you? We are about 40 feet from the house, and waiting for instruction," the voice said. The lead man smiled at the thought of his maggots finally following his orders.

"Almost there. Obviously some of us are not fit enough to handle a full mission," he snarled back, and shot a look to the few men who had hesitated in the clearing. They flinched under his piercing gaze.

"Yes, sir," The voice responded, then went still.

"On my command, storm the house," The lead man ordered. He raised the high powered rifle in his hand, and zoomed in on of the windows. Movement caught his eye.

"Is anyone in there?" The radio said, annoyingly, as it usually was.

"Yes. When we come out of the trees, you cover the other side of the house. Got it?" He hissed back.

"Yes, sir."

He let his 50 caliber sniper rest on the ground, while the others trained their MP5Ks at the door. On the other side he could faintly make out the men with Spaz 12s, the best shotguns around. They had the C4 charges needed to blow open the door. It didn't stand a chance.

And while he had insisted on T4, the boss had still instructed the use of C4, because this was a capture mission, rather than a blow-the-whole-house-away dead end.

"5, 4, 3, 2, 1, go," The leader whispered.

Slowly they emerged from the gloomy undergrowth, on the move to the quiet log cabin. Behind the cozy abode, a Danzi boat was docked, the waves of the navy blue water rippling against the grey pebbles on the shore and the sleek sides of the expensive vessel. 3 men directed their attention that way, and climbed aboard, undocking the boat and preparing for travel.

Meanwhile, the rest of the men flooded the porch, from the sides. They stopped at the entry, and exchanged a round of glances filled with determination. The demolitions expert pulled a small packet out of a pouch on his belt, then set the charge on the door. He handed a small black remote to the head of the operation, who grinned and cradled the device in the palm of his hand.

"Step back," He mouthed. They pressed themselves flat against the walls, their faces turned away from the entrance.

The leader poised his thumb over the round little button, then counted down inside his head. _3, 2, 1._

He jammed down.

Fire exploded out into the night, and a boom echoed after it. The small army rotated and swarmed inside, weapons up and aimed. The two Spaz 12 men went first, followed by the other with the MP5Ks. They cleared the room, then kicked open the other doors. The only thing they came out with was an orange tabby kitten, mewling loudly.

"Kill it?" One of the men said eagerly, holding the abomination by the scruff. It meowed in protest.

The leader held out his hands, and the trainee dropped it onto his palms. He brought the kitten close to his chest, and murmured incoherent things to it, petting its tiny body.

"Tell the men in the boat to just take it," He growled, then waved him away. He turned to the demolitions expert. "Good well done, Phantom."

"Thank you, sir." Phantom responded, and dipped his head in respect. The head of the mission held the animal out to another apprentice. "Take this, and put it in the same room as my guns."

The man nodded, then pivoted and made his way out into the night.

"So, whatcha gonna name it?" A familiar voice taunted behind him.

"Blackbird, if I recall correctly, you have no room to be talking. Your trifling little sniper was unsuccessful with the elimination of the psychic. The Boss sent me out because _I can actually get the job done_," he retorted dryly. Blackbird scowled.

"Foolish mistake of myself, I realize, Semper. No need to rub it in," He grunted.

"Go entertain yourself," Semper dismissed. Blackbird glowered, but followed the orders of his superior. "Ash!" He demanded.

"Yes, sir?" The man scrambled over, and saluted.

"This was your Intel, peasant. You were sure the psychic was hiding away here. You're off this mission." Semper commanded, his eyes cold and emotionless.

"Bu-Bu-But," The novice stuttered, a look of fear on his face.

"You will leave before I schedule an appointment with the firing squad," Semper hissed. The beginner's eyes went wide, and he spun around and clambered out of the residence.

Semper narrowed his eyes, then headed out of the house and to the shiny Danzi. He ascended into the craft, then motioned for them to get going. The boat purred to life, and the driver skillfully maneuvered it out, and towards the open ocean, where they would head back to base.

"You win this time, psychic."

**I wrote that by using the thesaurus every 30 seconds... So, review!**

** Shawn- Pretty please? She threatened to snipe me next chapter if no one did! And I don't really feel like getting a bullet through my skull! It's too beautiful...  
**

**Yes, it is, *pets Shawn's head* **

**Shawn- :D**

**But I like Michael Westen better.**

**Shawn- D: **

**Just kidding.**

**Shawn- :D **

**So review! Or I'll send Semper after Shawn! **

**Semper- *Foaming from mouth, pulling at the leash I have on him* **

**Shawn- 0_0  
**

**DO IT!**


	4. Chapter 4

How do I start? I am sorry guys. I haven't wrote a chapter in a month. The computer was epicly spazzing out, and now I'm not even using the same one. I've got to transfer the document via my email, and I guess I'll start writing the new chapter. I am sorry. I feel bad about it, and I'm going to hopefully have it up today or tommorow. I've been really busy with RL, and all that junk. I'll get on it, though...sorry. I promise this one will be reaaaaaaaaalllllllllllllyyyyy long.


End file.
